


Well of Sorrows

by SilentSlayer



Series: The Champion's Tales [2]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Grief, I Love The Froggy, I Told Yall I Was Crazy, M/M, Mages and Templars, Nightmares, Sorrow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentSlayer/pseuds/SilentSlayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heartbroken after Anders destroys the Chantry in Kirkwall, Hawke executes his lover. He can never forgive himself for allowing this to happen, or for the devastated look Anders gave him as he died in his arms.<br/>Now Hawke has been summoned to aid the Inquisition in their quest to destroy Corypheus. Hunter Trevelyan represents everything Anders did not. He's a warrior, a templar, and emotionally detached. Yet Hawke catches him staring often, silent fire in his icy blue eyes. And the Champion finds himself strangely drawn in.<br/>But can a broken heart heal after so much damage has been done?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night That Ended It All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emeraldfrog3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldfrog3/gifts).



Hawke wasn’t sure what in the Maker’s holy name had possessed him to come here. Skyhold was filled with people who had been hunting him for months, most notably Seeker Pentagast. Varric said it was important though, and Garrett was far too faithful to let his friend down. 

In truth, death was almost preferable to the pain that was his heart’s constant companion. When he closed his eyes, he saw Anders. When he dreamed, the mage was there. But more often than not, his dreams morphed into nightmares of the past.

 

_ The smell of burning still permeating the air. Blood splattered armor. Death hanging around him as Hawke walked behind the seated form of his lover.  _

_ ‘Not just my lover, but also the spirit within him,’ he thought to himself.  _

_ Anders made his confession, explained why he had destroyed the Chantry and murdered innocent lives. Hawke had wanted to help Anders free the mages, but not like this. Not at the cost of so much.  _

_ Now, there would be an open war between mages and templars. Thedas would be torn asunder.  _

_ But the worst part, the thing that pained Hawke the most, was that soft, sweet Anders had kept it all hidden from him.  _

_ Tears burned his eyes as memories flashed through his mind: telling Anders he loved him. The mage stating that he felt the same. So many nights spent together, and never once had Hawke known the truth. _

_ The man before him wasn’t the Anders he knew, the Anders who loved cats and helped anyone in need. That Anders had died the moment he blew up the Chantry, and now this Anders would die too. _

_ “For what it’s worth, I’m glad it’s you. It was nice to be happy...for a while.”  _

_ That was the last thing he said before Hawke drove his blade deep, the life fading from Anders’ eyes as Hawke cradled him close.  _

_ If only he could have followed his mage into the sweet embrace of death. At least there, Hawke could have found peace.      _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little preface to get us all into the story. This is my first work featuring Hawke predominantly and I hope everyone enjoys!  
> Also, this was written for the most amazing beta reader and friend ever. I hope you like it Froggy!!!!
> 
> Much love,
> 
> SS


	2. The Day Where It Began Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke meets the Inquisitor, and Maker if he isn't immediately intrigued by the man. 
> 
> This is basically the scene from the game told in my own way. It is a bit dialogue heavy, especially in game dialogue. I did add my own unique twists though.

Hawke stood on the battlements with Varric at his side. They were awaiting the arrival of Inquisitor Trevelyan, and wasting time by bantering back and forth about what had happened since they had last seen each other. The dwarf always was a good story teller.

“So then the Seeker ‘freed’ me by pressing me into service for the Inquisition,” chuckled Varric before his look turned serious. “She’s going to kill me once she finds out you are here.”

Hawke didn't like the sound of that. He opened his mouth the say so and suggest they sneak him out of Skyhold, but he was stopped short by a tall figure coming towards them. He could only assume the god striding forward was the Inquisitor.

Icy blue eyes, so clear that they drew Hawke in an refused to release him. Blonde hair so light it appeared white, styled wildly and brushing against the collar of his templar armour. Tanned skin marred by scars, the most noticeable an impressive gash that twisted along his left cheek. If only it devalued his looks instead of enhancing them.

The Inquisitor was tall, impossing, and solid muscle. A broadsword hung at his hip, and his face looked as if it was set in a permanent scowl. The twinge of lyrium brushed the air, his powers seeking out Hawke’s magic and inspecting it before deciding he was safe to approach.

Templars- always the same.

And yet, Garrett had never noticed one as he was noticing this man now. Even in Kirkwall which was teaming with their kind, none had ever enticed him. Something about the Inquisitor captured his full attention, and he had to remind himself not to let his tongue loll out of his mouth as he stared.

 _What are you doing?_ he berated himself as the blood finally came back to his brain and his senses returned. _You killed your last lover, remember? Or have you forgotten Anders so easily?_

And there is was again, the voice that would never let him move on from that devastating day. Guilt crept across him as his gaze fell to the stone beneath his feet. He didn't deserve to look, not even as a passing glance. Besides, the other man was a Templar. Templars and mages didn't mix. Kirkwall was proof enough of that.

As always, images flashed in his mind at the worst time. Showing him the small funeral they had held for Anders. Knight- Commander Meredith had not wanted to give Hawke his body, but the Champion had won the argument in the end. Varric had been the only friend to stand at his side as they committed his lover to the Maker. Even sweet Merrill had stayed away. They were all disgusted with what Anders had done, but the dwarf supported him in his grief.

“Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.” Garrett was pulled away from his painful past as Varric introducing him to the Inquisitor.  

“I don't use that title anymore, Varric,” he spat with more venom than he meant to.

“Right, sorry," the dwarf apologized before continuing. "Hawke, meet Inquisitor Hunter Trevelyan. You hinted that you might be able to help him with Corypheus. We did fight him, after all.”

Hunter, how fitting that his name was Hunter. Hawke shook his head to try and focus instead of letting his mind wander below the man's armour. Five seconds in and he was already losing his composure.

Garrett had to get away from the man standing before him with his arms crossed in annoyance. He leaned over the battlements, elbows resting on the ledge as he stared out at the deep blue sky. A blue that was nowhere near as lovely as Hunter's eyes.

“You already dropped half a mountain on the bastard. I'm sure anything I can offer pales in comparison,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. The Inquisitor actually chuckled at his words, and Garrett felt himself puff up with pride. He doubted the man laughed often.

Hawke launched inti his explination of what had happened when he ‘killed’ Corypheus. How the ancient magister had been influencing the minds of the Grey Wardens. When he stated it might somehow be connected to the Warden’s current disappearance, he heard the Inquisitor suck in a sharp breath.

“So Corypheus has the Red Templars, the Venatori, and now possibly the Grey Wardens? Because this just couldn't get any better…”

“Actually, I should be able to make it better,” said Hawke as he straightened to face the Inquisitor once more. All this talk of darkspawn and the world ending had his mind in the right place now. “I have a friend in the Grey Wardens who was investigating an unrelated matter for me. His name is Alistair. The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then, I have heard nothing. He told me he would be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood, and I intend to find him as soon as possible.”

“If you didn't know about Corypheus, then what were you doing with the Wardens?” questioned the Inquisitor. Typical Templar. Always cautious. Always wary.

“The Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium. It was red. I was hoping the Wardens could tell me more about it.” The man tensed at Hawke’s words, his frown deepening. It always made Templars uncomfortable when others spoke about lyrium, even more so when it was about corrupted lyrium.

“I know of what you speak. I joined the Inquisition at Commander Cullen’s request, and my friend has informed me about much of what happened in Kirkwall,” Hunter said darkly as Hawke shivered with worry. What _exactly_ did the Inquisitor know? How much had Cullen told the man about Hawke?

“The Knight- Captain is here?” Hawke asked wide eyed. He couldn't believe it. He had never invisioned Cullen leaving the Order, or Kirkwall. Even for a cause as noble as the Inquisition's.

“He no longer goes by that title, and he is no longer a Templar.” The muscle in the Inquisitor's jaw was ticking furiously. His eyes darkened and Hawke knew to avoid that subject in the future. It was obvious that Hunter had mixed feelings about the man's choice.

“The Templars at Haven looked like they had been exposed to the same form of lyrium. Sister Leliana has people looking into it, though so far we have turned up empty handed.” Hawke noted a slight sadness in the Inquisitor's eyes, barely perceptible but still there. The man appeared a hardened warrior, but still cared for his former Templar brothers.

“Hopefully my friend in the Wardens will know more.” Garrett tried to sound reassuring. He wasn't sure why he cared so much, but he hated knowing that the red lyrium was causing Hunter unease.

“I appreciate the help.” The sentiment from the Inquisitor was genuine as he extended his hand towards Hawke. Garrett accepted and shook the man's hand as the pact was made between them. He would help, in whatever way possible.

“I am doing this for myself as much as for you. Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I killed him before. But this time, I will make sure of it.” His voice was steeled with resolve as he spoke. The Inquisitor only nodded his understanding as he drew his hand back and rested it on the pommel of his sword. A small part of Hawke mourned the loss of contact, but he reminded himself to remain professional.

“I will speak with my advisors, but I plan to leave for Crestwood tomorrow to meet with your Warden contact. Until then, you are welcome here. Just try not to entice my mages into a rebellion." Andraste preserve Hawke, but he was dumbfounded as the Inquisitor actually made a joke. It was completely unexpected from the stoic man, as was the wide grin that crossed his features. 

"I- I will try," stammered Hawke as Hunter turned to head off towards the main keep. Hawke was finally able to let out the breath he had been holding as the man disappeared. 

This journey was going to be hell, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a lot of back story on Hunter. We will find out more about his templar past, his friendship with Cullen, and his choices in regards to the Inquisition before the battle of Haven.  
> Also, Hunter Trevelyan's physical appearance is modeled off of Dante from Devil May Cry. Just for those of you who are visual people. 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> SS


	3. Journey Into The Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric and Hawke bromance and we find out more about our stoic Inky. Gotta love story telling by Varric

The ride to Crestwood was long and boring. Hawke couldn't even enjoy the stories Varric was spinning for Vivienne and Blackwall because most of them were about him, and were wildly untrue.

Garrett had been introduced to their other two companions the night before, and while he liked the Grey Warden, he hadn't warmed up to the First Enchanter. Circle mages always made him uncomfortable, and she had almost called him an apostate more than once during their first meeting.

Instead of joining the others, he watched Hunter’s broad back as the man rode alone at the front of their group. His icy blue eyes constantly scanned the road for any signs of danger. More than once, Hawke saw him reach for the sword at his hip when the trees would rustle too loudly. It had to be exhausting for Templars to be so paranoid. 

Yet last night while Garrett and Varric were drinking in the Herald's Rest, he had seen a different side of the Inquisitor. The man had been sitting in a quiet corner with Knight-Cap- er, Commander Cullen, and he had been at ease for once. He smiled and laughed with his old friend, and Hawke had looked on in jealousy while he crawled deeper into his pint of ale. Hunter was obviously taken, but that did not stop Hawke from staring longingly at the man riding the proud black warhorse in front of him. 

“You know, you should really go talk to him.”

Hawke jumped and almost fell out of his saddle as he looked down to see Varric’s dapple grey pony riding beside him. The dwarf was wearing a wide grin, his eyes twinkling with knowing as he looked from Garrett to Hunter. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” denied Hawke though his cheeks heated despite his words. 

“Really now? You were staring at him so hard you didn't even notice me ride up beside you. Come on Hawke, you can't play dumb with me,” chuckled the dwarf as his eyes crinkled with mirth.

“Will you keep quiet,” hissed Garrett as he scowled at his friend. Varric knew him better than anyone, though at times that knowledge was a serious pain in Hawke's ass. 

“All I'm saying is, go say hi. Andraste knows it's time for you to move on.” Maybe Varric was right, but Garrett wasn't sure he was ready to take that chance. Anders’ death still haunted him, and there were so many other reasons why this was not a good idea. 

“But I'm a mage, an apostate in his eyes,” grumbled Hawke as his hands tightened on the reigns. For the first time in his life, he cursed his heritage. 

“You don't know very much about our Inquisitor, do you?” asked Varric mischievously as he raised an eyebrow at Hawke. Garrett hated that look. It meant the dwarf knew something he didn't, and that he was a fool for not knowing. 

“Alright, then tell me,” said Hawke as his eyes quickly flickered to Hunter before returning to his friend. 

“Once upon a time in a land far far away,” began Varric in a teasing tone. Hawke glared at him, and the smile fell from the dwarf’s face before continuing. “Right, sorry. Well as you know our Inquisitor is a Templar, from a Ferelden noble house actually. Before the sky started raining demons, he was Knight-Commander of Kinloch Hold.”

“Well that explains how he and Cullen know each other so well,” grumbled Hawke under his breath. Either Varric didn't hear him, or chose to ignore his words. 

“After the rebellion broke out in Kirkwall and the Inquisition was formed, he brought his mages and templars to Haven for safe keeping. Not sure how he pulled that one off with Curly and Cassandra around, but they seemed happy for his help. After all, he was Curly’s second-in-command before all the trouble started. ” Hawke was beginning to have a new appreciation for the Inquisitor. Most Circles rebelled and much blood was shed between the two sides. It said a lot for Hunter’s character that his mages and templars followed him despite the hostilities. 

“He was at the Conclave guarding the Divine, Maker rest her soul, when the explosion happened. Curly was pretty tore up until he fell out of the Breach.”

“So the Inquisitor and Commander are-” Hawke let the question hang in the air as he stared at Varric expectantly. 

“Ha! Curly and the Inquisitor? You're joking, right?” Damn the dwarf, he was starting to get loud again. “You don't seriously think I would be encouraging you if I thought you didn't have a chance? I mean, it's possible there is something going on between them, but highly unlikely. It's a rarity that I'm wrong about these things.”

Hawke wasn't sure he would go so far as to say that, but Varric's words did put some of his anxieties to rest. “Well, go on with the story then,” he encouraged.

“Right, the story. Where was I?” he said as he scratched his chin in thought. “Oh, then there was that whole ugly business in Val Royeaux with the Chantry and the Lord Seeker. I thought for sure Hunter was going to lose his cool over that one, but he was as calm as ever. Even got several of the templars to join us after giving a brilliant speech that I should have wrote down.” Hawke had heard about that, even though he had been far away from the south at the time. 

“That still doesn't explain why he allied the rebel mages at Redcliffe,” stated Hawke. That had surprised him more than anything. A templar allying with the mages would have been impossible to believe before he met Hunter. 

“No, it doesn't. You should have seen Curly. He was furious. I heard he even threw some of the pieces on the war map at the Inquisitor. I have no doubts where our illustrious Commander got the black eye he was sporting after that day.” Varric was laughing so hard he had to hold his side, and even Hawke chuckled at that one. He noticed everyone else, even Hunter, staring at them as he tried to regain his composure. The Inquisitor was frowning at the pair, and Hawke felt embarrassment heat from his ears down to the top of his armour. 

When everyone else had finally lost interest in their outburst, Garrett leaned in close to his friend. “So why did he do it?” he asked.

“Maybe you should personally find that out,” said Varric with a wink as he refused to tell Hawke what he wanted to know. Garrett inwardly groaned. He knew his friend was not going to let this rest until he went and spoke to Hunter himself. 

“Fine, I will speak with him. But not until tonight when we make camp.” It would not go well if he interrupted Hunter while they were riding. The man was far too focused on making sure the road was safe, and Hawke couldn't stand the thought of everyone watching them talk. 

“Have it your way then, Hawke,” sighed Varric with exasperation as he threw his hands up in the air in defeat. He let the subject rest after that, never mentioning that a certain templar kept stealing curious glances at the dark haired mage riding beside him.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So seriously, I rewrote this chapter like 3 times. I think I have finally gotten it right...I think. I definitely invisioned this going differently, but I like it all the same.  
> Garbage honey, I wasn't expecting the bromance to show up here but it did. Hope you like it  
> Froggy, I adore you. 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> SS


	4. Storms on the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Champion and Inquisitor speak, and we find out that not all templars are so bad.

Hawke sat staring at the thick brown cloth that made up the sides of the space he was sharing with the Inquisitor. That traitor Varric had sold him out, claiming that Hawke snored too loudly before diving into the safety of Blackwall's tent. And of course, the First Enchanter got her own quarters. 'Because ladies need their privacy, dear.' So, Garrett was stuck sharing with the one man who made his heart pound when he was near. This was just _great,_  sarcasm fully intended.

He was jittering with nervousness, and the rain pounding outside did nothing for the state of his anxiety. Storms reminded him of his journey to Kirkwall, his stomach rolling from the memory of the ship's rocking as they prayed to the Maker they would make it out alive.

It would have been better if they had all drowned in the Waking Sea, but fate had a funny way of making fools of them all.

He involuntarily jumped as the tent flap suddenly opened, pulling him from his depressing thoughts. A crack of lightning revealed the Inquisitor with his platinum blonde hair plastered to his forehead from the rain, his face barely illuminated by the lone candle on their makeshift table. Maker's breath, since when had a scowl become so beautiful?

"I brought you something to eat. I don't know how Blackwall did it, but he was able to prepare a meal in this maelstrom." His voice was even as he spoke, and he approached Garrett nonchalantly before attempting to hand him a bowl of stew that actually looked appetizing.

“Thanks,” nodded Hawke with a slightly tense smile before he took the offered food. It was sweet of Hunter to think of him, though he would never admit that out loud. “This isn't half bad,” he commented as he took a few bites. It was by no means Orana’s cooking, but it was better than anything found in the Hanged Man.

“We have you to thank for it,” remarked Hunter from his side of the tent. He had retreated to change out of his field armour, and Hawke forced himself to stay focused on his food and not sneak a peek. “You're the one who got the fire started despite wet kindling being the only thing Varric could find.”

Wow, a Templar who actually appreciated a mage? That was a rarity. “Well you and Blackwall are the ones who got the tents up despite the wind. I really can't take credit for anything.” Though it _was_ nice to shoot Vivienne a smug smile when everyone was able to warm up by the flames he had conjured. He didn't need a Circle to make him a skilled mage, and he had been happy to prove that.

“I'm just glad to be out of the rain,” chuckled Hunter as appeared in Hawke’s view once more. He was now dressed in simple black breeches and a loose white tunic, a dusting of light blonde chest hair peeking out for the V of his shirt. He was wearing an easy grin, something Hawke was unused to from the stoic Templar. It slightly unnerved him, though the man wore his smile well.

“Me too,” he added hurriedly as he blushed and ducked his head. He had been staring a moment too long, and the Inquisitor had raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him in a silent question.

“Are you alright? You seemed put off and disappeared rather quickly once we made camp.” There was genuine concern in those crystal blue eyes, and Garrett felt himself warmed by it.

“I just don't like storms. They take me back to a place that I don't want to remember.” His voice was low as he spoke, but his words were true. He wasn't going to add how he was terrified of sleeping in the same tent with Hunter. Not only did he find the Inquisitor attractive physically, but the man also seemed very sympathetic towards mages. An unheard of quality for a Templar. "I also should probably add… well it's hard to explain...” he stammered with nervousness but calmed when he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He looked up into Hunter's face, the normal hard lines now soft with understanding as he meet the mage’s gaze. “You can talk to me, Hawke. I know you probably hate my kind after what happened in Kirkwall, but I can assure you I am nothing like that.” There was a stiffness to the Inquisitor for a brief moment as he said that last line, but it passed so quickly Garrett barely noticed it.

“I don't hate you- templars I mean.” He quickly corrected his blunder as a nervous smile crossed his face. Maker's breath, he needed to hold it together. “I just- I have night terrors,” he finally admitted. “Sometimes I talk in my sleep.”

 _And scream_ he thought to himself, although he refused to add that. No need make the man think he was completely insane. He just prayed to Andraste that he didn't call out Anders name tonight. Or his mother's. Or…

“Is that all?” Hunter chuckled, causing Hawke to frown and pull away from the Inquisitor's touch. He hated being ridiculed. Now Garrett saw that typical Templar behavior coming out, and he was disgusted for letting himself trust the man. 

“I'm sorry,” Hunter apologized as he noticed Hawke's obvious irritation. “I was not laughing at you. I swear. I was actually relieved. You see, you aren't the only one with nightmares plaguing you.”

Hawke’s eyes widened in shock as he saw Hunter actually shift with unease. The man was quite obviously embarrassed at his admission, and Garrett fought the urge to grab his hand and offer him some small comfort. He wasn't sure what a man like the Inquisitor could be afraid of, but it definitely piqued his curiosity and made him feel bolder.

“Let me guess, blood mages possessed by demons? A world without lyrium? Maybe one without the Chantry corrupting Thedas with their iron fist?” Hawke always did have a way of making bad jokes at the worst times. He blamed his sick sense of humor on the events at Kirkwall, though it truth he had always been that way.

Hunter straightened at the words, his eyes narrowing and Hawke swore he heard a low growl from the man. “You know not of what you speak,” he spat as he stepped before Garrett. He towered over the Champion as his blue eyes glowered down into brown ones. "You think mages are the only ones who suffered under the Chantry's yolk? That you are the only one who has lost someone important to this cruel world? I have seen just as much abuse of power from mages as I have templars and the effects were just as devastating so don't you dare-"

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you!” Hawke interrupted in an attempt to cover his blunder as he held his hands up in defense. True worry assaulted him at this angry side of Hunter, not in fear for himself, but in shame that he had hurt the man who had done him no wrong.

A heavy sigh escaped the Inquisitor as the tension suddenly fell from his shoulders. Seeing Garrett afraid of him brought back his normal self more than anything else could. Control was paramount, and he hated himself for losing it. 

He looked defeated, broken almost as his features slipped back into their usual blank mask. This time Hawke did reach a shaky hand out to capture Hunter's own as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He was pleased when the man seemed comforted by the gesture.

“Forgive my anger,” the Inquisitor apologized softly before pulling his hand away and letting it fall listlessly at his side, shame lightly coloring his cheeks. “I know what you endured in Kirkwall. Meredith was a disgrace to the Order, and unfit to call herself a Knight- Commander. After meeting her, I imagine your opinion of Templars warrants such words.”

“You don't share her views though,” stated Hawke with conviction before continuing. “Varric told me about how you brought your mages to the Inquisition for safety, and then allied with the Rebels in Redcliffe. There were good Templars in Kirkwall, ones that did not want to see mages abused. I should not let myself forget that. I imagine if you could have been there, then things might have turned out differently.” Maybe Anders would have still been alive. Maybe this whole war would have never started. Garrett knew it was useless to dwell on maybes, but he couldn't help himself.

“I wish that I would have been there. Templars were intended to not only protect people from magic, but also to ensure mages’ safety. Too many in the Order forgot that.” He was pacing now, platinum blonde hair sticking up at odd angles from the many times he had run his hand through it in frustration.

Garrett watched the man rant, though could sense it was time to interject. “Is that why you choose the Rebels? To protect them? And what of your Templar brothers?”

Hunter stilled at the mention of the events at Val Royeaux. His expression was strained as he turned to face Hawke with a frown. "I called to the others after the atrocity Lord Seeker Lucius committed before that crowd. Those who would hear reason followed me, and those who did not made their choice. Thank the Maker I was able to reach some of them before the Lord Seeker corrupted them all.” His fist clenched at his side from the memory, a small gesture that did not go unnoticed by Garrett. The pain of that exchange was subtle and well-hidden, but he saw it in Hunter all the same.

“But the mages,” he began as Hawke straightened to listen closer. “They did not choose their fate. Many in Redcliffe had been cruelly thrust into the world with no idea how to survive, and they actually missed the Circle life they had once known. They became Rebels out of necessity, and once I learned that they had been indentured to a Magister, I had to interfere,” he boldly stated. His chiseled jaw was set in a hard line, and Hawke stared at the man with a newfound appreciation. He had only known one other with that sort of determination to protect and support mages, but Anders was gone and Garrett only had his memory to hold onto.

“Thank you, for telling me. You didn't have to.” Hunter chuckled softly at the Champion’s words, and Hawke smiled despite the awkwardness that he felt. He had been unsure of what to say after the Inquisitor bared his soul before him, and he hoped he had not offended him again.

“Don't worry. Soon enough I will have questions for you as well, Champion. But for now, we need to sleep. It will be a hard day’s ride if we are to reach Crestwood tomorrow before nightfall.” The use of his former title assured Hawke that any further discussion was over for the night. The Inquisitor had slipped back into his stoic role, the kinder side of him hidden under a hardened exterior.

As Hunter snuffed out their candle and disappeared in the darkness, Garrett laid down and let his mind roll over the information he had discovered. From all he could gather, the Inquisition was fortunate to have a leader who was both valiant and compassionate. He only hoped the curse that followed him like a plague did not affect the templar as well. For of all the men left in Thedas, Hunter Trevelyan was the one who most deserved to survive the coming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it is taking me longer to write these chapters. I want it to be just perfect to set up the entire story. Hope everyone is enjoying the ride. 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> SS


End file.
